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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24597715">advanced pinky promise</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/'>Anonymous</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>angsty oneshots/short stories [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Abandonment Issues, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Foster Care, Gen, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Hurt Peter Parker, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Peter Parker Has Anxiety, Peter Parker Has Issues, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Protective Tony Stark, Tony Stark Has Issues, i tagged the rape warning but there’s no description of the actual event, inaccurate depiction of the foster system (sorta), may and ben were never in the picture</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 07:27:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,929</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24597715</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When Tony went to track down Spider-man, he found a brilliant fourteen-year-old boy who’d been bouncing through foster homes his whole life. Though things looked fine on the surface, Tony wasn’t sure he trusted this Mr. Westcott.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Peter Parker &amp; Tony Stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>angsty oneshots/short stories [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1728802</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>562</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Anonymous</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>advanced pinky promise</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>hey everyone!! i just want to establish a few things first:<br/>- any references to rape aren’t graphic or described in any way<br/>- the way that i wrote how the police/medical professionals handled this isn’t accurate, it’s just how it happened to work out here<br/>- i know that the foster system isn’t as terrible as i made it out to be. peter just happened to have terrible luck lmao<br/>- i don’t have a beta, so please let me know if you catch any mistakes!<br/>- thank you for reading!!!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Finding Spider-man, surprisingly enough, wasn’t as easy as Tony thought it would be. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Not because the kid was good at hiding his identity. No, he had a habit of changing into the ratty old suit in places with, albeit minimal, visibility from CCTV cameras. Not enough that any normal facial scanner would be able to find the kid’s identity though- Tony had to give him that- but FRIDAY was no normal scanner. So finding out who the kid was proved to be the easy part. The tricky part was finding out </span>
  <em>
    <span>where</span>
  </em>
  <span> the kid was. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was an orphan, had been for most of his life, and had bounced through foster homes for years. Parents died in a plane crash a decade ago. Ran away from three homes, moved four times within the past year. Something must have gotten lost in the shuffle, because when Tony walked up to the suburban house that Peter was supposedly living in, those living there said he’d moved out weeks ago. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure he’s the one you’re looking for?” The elderly woman asked. “Kid was nothing but trouble. Sneaking out constantly. Talking back. I hate to break it to you, sir, but I don’t think he’s worth your time.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tony pulled his lips into a faux smile. “Thank you for your time, ma’am.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After that, he drove back home and sent FRIDAY on another chase. He was running out of time before he’d have to bring in Barnes and Rogers. These were precious hours, here. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Instead of going through the CPS files- many of which were out of date- Tony started going through more CCTV footage. Scouring social media, school enrollment. He finally- </span>
  <em>
    <span>finally- </span>
  </em>
  <span>found the kid after an unreasonably long time (he was Tony fucking Stark. Why was it so hard to find one fourteen-year-old?).</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he approached the apartment building, Tony pressed the buzzer for apartment 76. According to FRIDAY, Peter’s foster father should be home and the kid himself should be arriving soon. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Who is it?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Came a voice through the microphone. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s Tony Stark,” he replied. “I’m here to offer your foster son a very exclusive scholarship. May I come in and talk to you about it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was a pause- a rather long one- before Tony heard a buzzer and the distinct sound of the front door unlocking. He mounted the stairs until he reached the apartment he was looking for, outside of which stood a man in his thirties, hands on his hips. He didn’t look like Peter’s old foster parents that Tony had seen on file. He was young, cleanly shaven, had a smile on his face with perfectly straight teeth. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Stark,” the man said, holding out his hand. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You too, Mr…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Westcott,” the man said. “Steven. Call me Skip.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He ushered Tony into the apartment, which looked to be about as clean as the man who lived there. Color-coordinated, shelves filled with pictures of family, of friends and pets- </span>
  <em>
    <span>but Peter wasn’t in a single one of them. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, what’s this about Peter,” Skip asked, pulling Tony from his thoughts. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah, yes,” he began. Everything Tony said was bullshit, really. Some true, some made up. Just true enough that Skip would buy it. It wasn’t that the kid wasn’t smart- he was obviously a genius- but Tony had to make his story believable while omitting the fact that Peter was a teenaged, spider-themed vigilante. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That kid really is special,” said Westcott. “A real Einstein.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tony nodded, confused. Peter’s other guardians had nothing positive to say about him. In fact, they passed him around like a hot potato, sending him from group home to foster home and back again. No one seemed to want him. Except Westcott. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It should’ve been comforting. Tony should’ve been happy that the kid found someone who could see the good in him, was willing to keep him, but something about it rubbed him the wrong way. It wasn’t just the pictures- Peter had only just moved in recently, it wasn’t like Tony expected them to already have pictures taken and printed. Tony wasn’t sure exactly what it was, but there was something he didn’t like about Steven “Skip” Westcott. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then, Peter walked in. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The kid looked… good. Well clothed, well fed, hair neat. As if he really did have a good guardian looking after him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah, Peter,” Skip said, and the kid started where he stood, headphones in, heading towards the hallway. He caught sight of Tony and his eyes blew wide. After a moment, Skip continued. “Where are your manners? Come shake the man’s hand.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After that, things went pretty smoothly. They went into the kid’s bedroom and talked, confirming Tony’s suspicions about him being the Spider-kid. He found out that the kid was a total nerd, built his own tech out of stuff he found in the trash, and had a guilt complex big enough to rival Tony’s own. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I should probably tell your guardian that-“</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No!” The kid stood, moving to stand between Tony and the door. “No, no, you can’t tell Skip.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And why not,” Tony asked, crossing his arms. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He’s gonna freak out! And he’ll probably kick me out, and I really like the school I’m going to and- just- please. You can’t tell him.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tony sighed. “Okay. Fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>After Germany, the accords, Siberia, Tony didn’t think about the kid again. He left Happy in charge of him and went about his business. Plus, if anything were really wrong, the suit would alert him of it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Apparently, he had to worry about the kid outside of the suit, too. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At three in the morning on that December night, FRIDAY gently woke him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Boss, Mr. Hogan is calling.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tony groaned. “Ignore.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He says it’s urgent.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Ignore, </span>
  </em>
  <span>FRI.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He’s insisting, sir.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tony let out a loud, dramatic sigh. “Fine. Put him through.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tony.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What is it? What the hell is going on at three in the fucking-“</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s the kid.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Now that piqued his interest. “Yeah? What’d he get himself into?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He’s-“ A sigh. “He said he’s at the police station, and that he didn’t know who else to call.” Tony felt his chest tighten. “I’m going. You can come if you want.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No- Yeah. I’m coming, just give me a second.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Groggily, Tony pulled himself out of bed and put on some clothes before meeting Happy in the garage. He got into the car and the bodyguard sped off into town. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’d he say on the phone,” Tony asked. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He wasn’t really making much sense,” Happy replied. “He just said that something happened, he was at the police station, and that he didn’t want to be alone.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Heart clenching, Tony looked out the window as they sped down the street, eventually parking by the station. Happy led him inside and asked about Peter. The officer on duty led them down a hallway and through a door, into a room that Tony was thankful wasn’t an interrogation room. Okay, so the kid wasn’t in trouble. Thank goodness. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The relief only lasted so long before Tony actually laid eyes on the kid. He was sitting on a desk chair, hunched over the table in front of him, a woman Tony recognized as his case manager sitting across from him. The woman looked up when they walked in, but Peter didn’t. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mr. Stark,” the social worker said, standing. “Peter said you’d be coming, but I wasn’t sure…” Tony winced, nodding for her to continue. She lowered her voice. “If you could get him to tell you anything, it would really be a help. He hasn’t said much since I got here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What happened,” Tony asked. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The woman’s face softened. “I’m not sure. Neighbors called the police when they heard screaming coming from his apartment. Mr. Westcott said that Peter attacked him, but… I don’t know. It just doesn’t seem like something Peter would do. He’s misbehaved before but he’s never been </span>
  <em>
    <span>violent</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Just talk to him. Anything you can get out of him helps.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With that, the woman left. Tony looked at the corners of the room, cameras signifying that they were being recorded and observed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, kid,” Tony cleared his throat. “You gonna say hello, or keep making out with that table?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Peter’s shoulders shrugged, and Tony shared a wary glance with Happy. They both approached the table and took a seat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Come on, kid,” Tony said, leaning forward. “Talk to me here. I can’t help you unless you tell me what happened.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Finally, the boy slowly straightened his back so they could see his face, which sported a nasty black eye and a fat lip. Tony felt Happy stiffen beside him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How about you go get us some ice, Hap,” Tony suggested. The guard looked at him quizzically for a moment before understanding. Once he was gone, Tony turned back to the kid. “Who did that to you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Peter’s bottom lip wobbled, and he used his sleeve to wipe a stray tear, then shrugged. Tony only scoffed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Come on,” he said. “There’s no way you don’t know who did that. Wanna try again?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This time, Peter shrunk into his seat, continuing to avoid eye contact. Tony sighed, standing up and approaching a shelf behind him. He trained his eyes on the picture frames and drawings, psyching himself up for what he was going to say next. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know,” he began. “When I was a kid, my dad was… a big fan of ‘tough love’.” He paused, turning back around to face the kid. “In reality, it wasn’t love at all. It took decades for me to come to terms with the fact that it was abuse.” He sat back down. “I suggest you try to come to terms with it before you turn thirty.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Silence swept over them, and for a long moment Tony wondered if he’d fucked up. There was no way he could compare their situations. If Peter admitted that there had been abuse, he’d be shipped off to another home, taken out of school, subjected to more change than he should have to endure. But finally, Peter replied. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He- He was really nice at first,” he said in a whisper. “I got comfortable. I knew it was-“ He paused, looking as if he were holding in a painful sob. “I knew it was t-too good to be true.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was another long moment of silence, during which tears traced down the kid’s cheeks. Guilt settled its way into Tony’s bones at the sight. The knowledge that he’d met the fucker who hurt this kid- this kind, selfless kid- and didn’t wring his neck made Tony’s blood boil. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The first time it happened, I didn’t really know what was going on,” Peter continued. “I- I’d never been… never been </span>
  <em>
    <span>touched </span>
  </em>
  <span>like that before. I didn’t know what-“ He cut himself off, shaking his head, and Tony felt his stomach sink down to his feet. “And then- it happened a few more times, and I- I knew what it was. That it was- not good. But I just…” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Peter was cut off by a sob, and all Tony wanted was to find Westcott and beat the living shit out of him, but instead he reached a hand out and rested it atop Peter’s. The boy looked up at him and neither of them said anything until Peter used his other hand to wipe away a tear. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uh- I didn’t… I didn’t want to move again,” Peter said in a wobbly voice. “I re-really like, uh, my school, and he was willing to pay for it. And I figured- at least he gave me enough food for my- my, uh, metabolism. I thought that it was a- y’know- a reasonable trade.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A lump situated itself in Tony’s throat, and he squeezed the boy’s hand in some feeble attempt at comforting him. God. A </span>
  <em>
    <span>trade, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he’d said. Kids shouldn’t have to trade safety for food. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What happened tonight,” Tony asked softly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Peter sniffled. “I- I don’t know. I just… I was fed up, I guess. And I… I pushed him off of me- like, </span>
  <em>
    <span>hard,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> he emphasized, and Tony got the point. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Too hard for any normal kid. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“And he hit his head, and… </span>
  <em>
    <span>freaked</span>
  </em>
  <span> out. I’d never seen him that angry before, I-“ He cut himself off. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What,” Tony prompted. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Peter’s voice lowered to a whisper, tearful and afraid. “For a second, I thought he was going to kill me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The tears were flowing freely again, and Tony had finally had enough. He let go of Peter's hand and walked around the table. When the kid turned to face him, Tony crouched down in front of his chair. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry that happened, kid,” he tried, but it sounded wrong. He wasn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>sorry</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he was angry. He wanted to rip Westcott apart.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Peter’s face crumpled. “And now I have to move again,” he cried. “And switch schools. And- </span>
  <em>
    <span>god</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I ruined everything.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The sobs toppled from the boy’s mouth, a seemingly unstoppable avalanche. This kid was so different from the one Tony had brought to Germany. That Peter was carefree and naive and happy. Maybe Tony was the naive one to not suspect something hidden underneath. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eventually, Tony couldn’t help himself, and he slowly collected Peter into an embrace. The boy didn’t resist- in fact, he nearly threw himself against Tony’s chest, grabbing his shirt in tight fists. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s going to be okay,” Tony said decidedly. “I’ll make sure of it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The kid just continued to cry quietly, holding onto Tony so tightly that it seemed he’d never felt a kind touch in his life. He didn’t seem quite convinced that Tony would take care of it, but the man had never been more sure of anything in his life.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Westcott would never touch another child again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Peter would get the home he deserved. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>The process was long. Tony called up his lawyers and was able to get quick clearance to take the kid home with him instead of having him sent to another group home. While he was managing the logistics of it all, Happy sat with the kid, making sure he held the ice pack against his face intermittently to help with the swelling. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He needs to go to the hospital,” an officer said. “He needs a rape kit as soon as possible.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I have medical staff at the tower,” Tony replied. “We’ll get it done.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>By the time they left the police station, it was almost seven in the morning. The kid looked absolutely exhausted, and Tony couldn’t blame him. He must’ve been awake for way too long. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you need anything from… the apartment,” Tony asked once they were in the car, making a point not to call that place </span>
  <em>
    <span>home, </span>
  </em>
  <span>because it wasn’t a home, not to Peter. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I- Uh- I don’t…” The kid spluttered for a moment. “No. I’m good.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once again, Tony couldn’t blame him for not wanting to go back to the place where he’d experienced months of trauma. If the kid needed anything, they’d just send Happy to get it. Speaking of Happy, the man was quiet. Here were no grumpy remarks or sarcastic quips from him, only silent driving and the occasional glance in the rear view mirror. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do I really have to do it?” Peter asked, and Tony looked at him, puzzled. “Get a, uh… A rape kit. Nothing like that even happened tonight.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You still need to be checked out,” Tony replied. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The kid just sighed, turning his head to stare out the window. Tony could see his hands shaking, gripped around his pant-legs with white knuckles. Tension built up in the boy’s jaw, his eyes turned glassy and he blinked in excession, probably in an attempt to stave off the tears. Tony looked to the front seat for help, but Happy was focused on the road, eyebrows drawn together. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The rest of the ride was spent in silence. Tony spared the kid an anxious glance as they got out of the car and into the tower’s elevator, and Peter pretended not to notice. FRIDAY took them straight to the Medbay, where some of Dr. Cho’s staff was waiting, and when the doors opened everything felt surreal. The hallway was mostly empty, the lights creating an almost dreamlike aura. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Peter walked into an examination room, and Tony moved to follow but Dr. Cho held out a hand. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I think it might be best if you wait out here,” she said. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tony looked past her to where Peter sat on the examination table, fiddling with the ends of his sleeves. “You good, kid?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll be fine,” Peter replied, voice small and barely audible. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tony allowed the door to be shut in front of him, cutting off his view of the kid. As he sat down in a chair on the side of the hallway, it was finally starting to sink in that Tony just whisked a child away from an unhealthy situation, totally unprepared, on a whim. He didn’t know shit about kids, let alone teenagers carrying months of trauma and years of attachment issues. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As if sensing his distress, Pepper came down the hallway, her heels clicking rapidly on the linoleum floor. Tony didn’t look up when she stopped in front of him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What happened?” Her voice was soft, laced with concern. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The kid.” Tony sniffed. “Peter, he… His foster father was abusive.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He went on to explain as much as he could about what happened while still preserving Peter’s privacy. Pepper was silent, sparing glances towards the door separating them from Peter. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know what to do, Pep,” the man said. “He’s had no luck in the system so far. I can’t send him back.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pepper chewed on the inside of her cheek. “Let me talk to legal to see what we can do,” she said. “Just don't make any decisions yet.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She gave his shoulder a squeeze before retreating back down the hallway, leaving Tony to continue staring at the door in front of him. Just when the man noticed that they were taking an awful long time, the door opened. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Helen,” Tony greeted, and the woman closed the door behind her. “How is he?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s been too long since the last assault to detect penetration,” the doctor explained. “Especially because of his healing factor, there’s just no physical evidence of sexual assault.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Swallowing down his anger, Tony nodded. “Thank you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He went into the room with a knock against the doorframe. Peter was still sitting on the table, though he was now clad in a thin gown, his arms crossed over his chest and his head bowed. Tony went to speak, but Peter beat him to it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, sir.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The boy’s voice was small, barely audible. He sounded young, vulnerable- the polar opposite of Spider-man’s sarcastic quips. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I- What-“ Tony spluttered. “Why are you sorry? Don’t be sorry.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There’s not enough evidence,” Peter said. “I wasn’t… I wasn’t really </span>
  <em>
    <span>planning </span>
  </em>
  <span>on telling anyone.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s not your fault,” Tony insisted. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was able to understand, to an extent. When he lived with Howard, he wasn’t allowed out of the house without covering his bruises. He was taught not to cry, </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t be a pussy about it, Anthony. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Hiding the evidence of abuse became a means of survival. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But we can’t prove anything,” Peter cried. “He’s gonna get another kid, and everyone’s going to think I’m a liar.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Hey,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Tony scolded, then realized his mistake when the kid flinched back. He lowered his voice, leaning against the table on which Peter sat. “You’re not a liar. I don’t think you’re a liar. And Westcott? He’s never getting his hands on another kid again. I’ll make sure of that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Really?” Peter looked up at him, eyes swollen and cheeks red, and uttered the word in amazement. Tony nodded, and Peter wiped a stray tear from his cheek. “Thank you,” he said, voice wobbling with emotion. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay, kid,” Tony replied. “I’m gonna make sure you’re okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Making sure Peter was okay proved to be quite the undertaking. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As soon as they were done in the Medbay, Tony brought Peter to a guest room, where the kid fell asleep as soon as his head touched his pillow. Pepper spoke with their lawyers, who were able to negotiate with CPS to allow Tony to foster Peter. Of course, this was all hypothetical. He wanted to get Peter’s permission first, because the kid deserved to have some semblance of control over things. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At one in the afternoon, Peter emerged from his room. He was wearing Tony’s clothes, which were baggy enough on him to make the man’s heart swell. Peter’s unruly curls stuck up in different directions, but he ran a hand through them in an attempt to tame them once he saw Tony at the kitchen island. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Pete,” Tony greeted, taking a drink from his mug. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hi,” Peter replied. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Come sit. I want to talk to you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fidgeting anxiously with the hem of his shirt, Peter came forward to sit on the other side of the island from Tony. The man tried not to be insulted by the kid’s choice to sit as far away from him as possible. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So,” Tony began, clearing his throat. “Pep and I have been talking, and… I wanted to know if you’d want to stay here.” Peter didn’t reply, so Tony clarified. “With me.” Once again, the boy was silent. “As your guardian.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Peter was still silent, but he began to chew on his lower lip- a habit Tony began to notice recently. He looked down, up, anywhere but at Tony’s face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>”Talk to me, kid,” Tony begged. “What’s going through your head?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uh- Uhm…” He hesitated. “I just… I don’t really have much luck with- with </span>
  <em>
    <span>family, </span>
  </em>
  <span>I guess. When I was a kid, there was this one family who was planning on adopting me. They were just- </span>
  <em>
    <span>amazing. </span>
  </em>
  <span>They were so nice.” His face fell. “Then their daughter died. It was an accident. She drowned in the neighbor’s pool. After that, they changed their minds and stopped fostering.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The family I was with when I got my powers was nice too. My foster mom took care of me while I was sick. But then her husband got laid off, and he had to find a different job, so they had to move out of state.” The boy sighed. “I really thought they were going to keep me. After that, I became Spider-man. And all of my foster parents said I was a delinquent, that I kept sneaking out, that I was nothing but trouble. I didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>try </span>
  </em>
  <span>to be a bad person, but…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nothing’s going to happen to make me get rid of you,” Tony tried. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You can’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> that,” Peter insisted. “You can’t. Everyone leaves, Mr. Stark. Don’t make promises you can’t keep. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Please.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tony leaned forward in his seat. “Okay. I’ll level with you. I can’t promise that nothing shitty is going to happen. But I </span>
  <em>
    <span>can </span>
  </em>
  <span>promise that I won’t abandon you. Not as long as I’m alive. Okay?” Peter stared at him, obviously not quite convinced, but nodded nonetheless. Tony held out his hand. “Pinky promise?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Peter’s lips curled into a smile. “Really, Mr. Stark? I’m not twelve.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tony frowned. “Okay, fine. How about an </span>
  <em>
    <span>advanced </span>
  </em>
  <span>pinky promise?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Advanced?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Tony challenged. “If I break the promise, then I have to cut off my pinky.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re kidding,” Peter laughed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Come on,” the man prompted. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Raising an eyebrow in bemusement, Peter wrapped their pinkies together. “Pinky promise.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>you can now find me on tumblr @ dropmyneedle!! i’m accepting requests but i can’t guarantee that i’ll get to all of them. please leave a comment to let me know what you think!!!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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